Writer, Law Student, Federer Fan

Menu

Finding comfort in fleeting moments of certainty

There are many things I don’t know. Where I’ll be working or living next month (well, I hope by next month, anyway). Why I can’t remember which section of Des Moines’ skywalk system is closed even though I trek through it four times a week. I don’t even know how to say, “I don’t know,” in Arabic (something that’s more useful than, say, my knowledge of the word for “peach”).

Amid all my post-grad angst and uncertainty, I find unexpected comfort in the things I know — the cerebral and the tangible. Moment to moment, I flip from extreme confidence to paralyzing fear. I capture the whole experience in writing, whether in my journal, here on my blog or on Twitter. There’s something intoxicating, dizzying, about capturing my identity as it exists, suspended in a single moment and mind — knowing I’ll never be there again.

For now, I’ll take a brief break from my uncertainties (for the next 300-some words, that is) and write about the things I know, some more existential than others.

I know all the words to the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” theme song, and I’m not talking about the mainstream version. I can rap the extended version, including the verse about sipping orange juice out of a champagne glass. “Ice Ice Baby” is next on my list, and I’ve already got the, “Yo, VIP, let’s kick it,” part down.

I know I’m a writer. Not an aspiring writer. Not a hopeful writer. A writer.

I know I’ll probably never be fluent in Arabic, but I’m going to keep learning it.

Thanks to Amy Poehler and her brilliant memoir, Yes Please, I know saying “no” should be the end of discussion, not the start of negotiation.

Fun fact: I know all the words to Kevin Gnapoor’s rap from “Mean Girls.” Whenever I need a pep talk, I turn to my favorite line: “All you sucka emcees ain’t got nothin’ on me, on my grades, on my lines. You can’t touch Kevin G.”